


Should Have Brought Flowers

by canthelpmyselves



Series: Beaten To The Post [6]
Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Attraction, First Meetings, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-10
Updated: 2019-01-10
Packaged: 2019-10-07 23:53:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17375576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/canthelpmyselves/pseuds/canthelpmyselves
Summary: Leonard is looking to fence some stolen goods.





	Should Have Brought Flowers

Len entered Saints and Sinners and headed straight for the bar. The woman behind it looked him over carefully before asking what he wanted to drink. Len ordered a beer and turned to look around the room. It had been years since he last set foot in Central. In fact, he hadn’t been back since his old man met a gruesome (well-deserved) end at the hands of the partner he was trying to cheat. In fact, Lewis wasn’t even in the morgue before Len, who was fifteen at the time, was packing up everything he could fit into two gym bags and running with his little sister as far as a tank of gas and three hundred and twelve bucks could get them. Len spent the next twenty years honing his skills and raising Lisa the best he knew how. Now that Lisa was grown and settled down, he was back and looking for a new start. Once he established a connection with a reasonable, trustworthy fence, that is. He has a lot of stored treasures to unload, bit by bit.

Sara, an old girlfriend he had briefly lived with in Paris but who was now living in Starling, had told him this was the place to do so. Right in the center of the bad part of town, it was the bar of choice for anyone with a shady past. The CCPD had stopped trying to clean up this area a long time ago. It was mob run and too heavily guarded for them to take on. Ironically, it was owned by Henry ‘Doc’ Allen, the man who put two bullets in his old man’s head. Maybe he should have brought flowers?

The clack of pool balls had him turning his head toward the back area. There were six rough looking guys standing around the pool table, but it was younger man who caught and held his attention. Perched on the low wall, the guy had dark brown hair that curtained his eyes but framed his painted lips. The skimpy daisy dukes he wore displayed every inch of long lean leg. His feet were bare and his toes were painted black. The plum colored cropped t-shirt matched his lipstick and showed off the vibrant purple and black roses tattooed on his lower back He looked like every sin Len had ever imagined.

“That’s Doc’s boy,” the bartender warned in a low voice, passing him a second beer. 

Len dragged his eyes away, only for them to slide right back to the guy when he suddenly laughed out loud, throwing his head back and giving Len a perfect view of his swan-like neck. The men around the guy all smiled warmly at him as he hopped off the wall and headed to the bathroom. A large man with thick muscles and no neck stuck his head in the bathroom, waved the pretty boy in, and then stood guard at the door. 

Len turned back to his drink. He spent the next half hour slowly nursing his drink and studying the patrons and security set-up, and doing his best to ignore the delectable young man. “So, any chance of getting a meeting with the boss?” he asked casually.

The woman eyed him suspiciously. “And who would I say is asking?”

Len smirked and braced his forearms on the bar top. “Leonard Snart.”

Her eyes widened slightly, but other than that, she gave no indication she recognized the name. “Got a contact number?” she asked.

Len grabbed a napkin and patted his pockets for a pen. One immediately appeared in his peripheral. Len turned his head and smirked as the purple clad cutie smiled back at him. Len quickly scrawled a number on the napkin and passed it over.

Len turned to hand him back his pen, but the guy was already halfway across the bar, throwing a wave to two old-timers in a booth before moving to the booth near the doors. This time the minx hopped up onto the table and leaned back on his elbows. He closed his eyes and began humming along to the music coming from the jukebox. Len looked back and saw the bartender was turned away from him, chatting with a dark skinned woman in neck to foot leather, so he stood up with his beer and headed across the room. 

“Thanks for the pen,” he said when he got to the booth. The cutie opened his eyes and smiled again. Desire pooled in the pit of Len’s stomach, his hands itched to reach out and touch those lovely legs. 

“Bare.”

Len’s mouth ran dry and his eyes involuntarily went to the guy’s legs. A soft chuckle had him looking back up quickly.

“My name,” he teased. “It’s Barry, Bare or Red. I answer to any one of those.”

Len smirked. “Len.”

Barry tilted his head, his fringe of hair shifting to give Len a better view of his hazel eyes. “I heard. So, you’ve got business with my Daddy?” he asked with a coy little bite to his bottom lip.

A shiver of lust raced down Len’s spine but he forced himself to remain outwardly calm in the face of Barry’s teasing. Something wasn’t right here. He came over to pass the time with some mild flirting but he was getting that tick in the back of his head that warned of a trap. “I doubt your ‘Daddy’ would be happy if I discussed business with you.”

Barry slowly sat up, smirking as he shifted his legs apart and grabbed onto Len’s jacket to tug him in closer. “Guess I’m just a bad boy, then, aren’t I?” Barry whispered.

Len latched onto Barry’s wrists, eyes narrowing. The little shit was trying to burn him before he ever even got to see Doc Allen. “Kid, I just came to return your pen,” he growled. “Peddle your used goods on some other schmuck. I’ve got standards.”

Suddenly there were several large hands holding onto his arms. Len forced himself not to struggle. Barry smirked wider and slid off the table, their bodies only inches apart. He leaned in close, their similar heights making it easy for his plum colored lips to brush Len’s earlobe. “The boss will see you now,” he purred before slipping around Len and disappearing out the front door.

_Fuck!_ Len thought to himself as four large guys marched him toward the back stairs.

* * *

The office was surprisingly well lit. There were several file cabinets and an ordinary looking desk. One rolling chair was behind it while two stiff backed wooden chairs were in front. There was a long couch that looked soft with deep seats and a couple of blankets folded up over one arm. The goons sat Len in one of the wooden chairs and left without a word. Len heard running water and turned toward the only other door. Soon it opened and a large, muscular man with a shaved head exited a small bathroom. He barely even glanced at Len before heading over to the couch and dropping down across it and turning on the TV on the wall behind the desk. For several seconds the only sound in the room was the nature documentary playing.

“Um…”

“Save it for the boss,” the big guy grumbled.

“You’re not Doc Allen?” Len asked curiously.

“He’s Mick.”

Len’s eyes widened as Barry strolled in, only now he was wearing slacks and polished Italian loafers. His eyes were on his hands as he buttoned up the wine red dress shirt he had changed into. His hair was now tucked behind his ears, giving Len a clear view of a truly beautiful face. When he reached the side of the couch he bent over and gave Mick a deep kiss. Barry straightened back up and walked around the desk and sat down before sliding a pair of glasses on. He opened a drawer and pulled out a laptop. Soon he was typing away.

Len looked from Barry to Mick who was smiling fondly at Barry, then back. It only took a second for everything to click in place. “You’re Doc Allen,” he bit out.

Barry snorted. “I’m Barry Allen. Doc Allen is my father.” He paused in his typing and looked up with amusement. “My Dad is retired.”

Len lifted one eyebrow. “Retired or _retired_?”

Barry placed his elbows on the desk, hands linked so he could rest his chin on them. “Leonard Snart. 35. One sister, Lisa. Father deceased and from what I can see, good riddance. Thief, con artist and honey potter. Status, assumed active. Assumed because you haven’t left any evidence in seven years. There are eleven heists, thought, that have you as the main suspect. The Kahndaq Diamond theft was a thing of beauty. What brings you to my doorstep, Mr. Snart?”

Len slipped into work mode, forcing his attention on business and away from the delectable young man’s appeal. “I’m looking to unload some items.” He smirked slightly. “I’m changing my status.”

Barry laughed softly and closed the laptop. “Giving up the game? You’re still a young man.”

“Older than you,” Len pointed out. “Not as pretty, either,” he flirted, apparently unable to completely shut off the attraction he felt. Barry’s lips tilted up at the corners and a low growl came from the couch. “I’m tired of the running,” he admitted honestly. “Dodging cops and feds is a younger man’s game. My sister is settled and I have more than enough money to start over. I’m looking to unload some items I’ve been holding onto and build myself a little nest egg.”

Barry stared intently at Len for a long moment. “I’ll be honest, when you showed up, there was some concern you were finally coming after you dad’s killer.”

Len snorted. “And here I was thinking I should have brought flowers. Lewis was a bastard who deserved worse than he got, but I’m satisfied having him dead.”

After a long, searching stare Barry nodded and grabbed a post-it pad. He wrote on it before pulling off the top four pages. He handed Len the top one and held out the other three. Mick walked over, took them and placed them in a large ashtray, burning them to ashes. Next Barry opened a drawer and pulled out a cheap burner phone which he slid across the desk to Len.

“There are two numbers programmed into that,” Barry said. “One is Mick’s and the other is for a guy named Harry. Call him and set up a meeting. He’ll take a look at what you want to move, give me an estimate of value and then you and I can talk. If you have any problems, call Mick.”

Len eyed the phone warily. It was more than likely bugged. “This guy’s dangerous?”

Mick snorted as Barry shook his head. “He’s an asshole. He hates people, in general, and makes things difficult if he can get away with it. As a new face, he’ll try to push your buttons to see how far he can get. You shouldn’t need to call Mick over Harry. However, there are a lot of… volatile people in Central always looking to make a name for themselves. Taking down Captain Cold would be tempting to some.”

Len smirked at the old nickname. Before he got smarter and started covering his tracks better, he was known for using liquid nitrogen to break into vaults. “I can handle myself,” he drawled. He let his eyes drift over Barry briefly. “In any situation,” he added charmingly.

Mick had moved to stand behind Barry, so Len looked up to gauge the big man’s response. He was surprised to find Mick looked more amused than worried. Barry chuckled and stood up, his hands slipping into his pockets. Mick’s hands settled on Barry’s waist and squeezed gently.

“Have a good evening, Mr. Snart,” Barry said firmly, a smile still on his face. “I do hate to rush a handsome guy like you off, but I have a boyfriend to pamper.”

Len stood and placed the phone and note in his inner jacket pocket. He tilted his head as he took in the view of the two men. Mick, while big and rough looking, was actually very handsome. Deep brown eyes, lots of hard muscles and a wicked gleam in his eyes. Barry was devastatingly pretty whether dressed as a rentboy or in tailored slacks and a silk shirt. 

“Have a good evening, gentlemen,” he purred, turning to leave the office. He paused in front of the door and looked back at them. “And if either or both of you ever want company...” he pulled out the burner and waved it slightly, “hit me up.” He winked and opened the door, stepping into the hallway with the sound of two separate chuckles following him.

Returning to Central may just be the best decision he could have made. Next time, he was definitely bringing flowers.

For _both_ men.


End file.
